Night Watch - Terry Pratchett [98]
People expected all kinds of things from coppers, but there was one thing that sooner or later they all wanted: make this not be happening.
Make this not be happening…
“What?” he said, suddenly noticing a voice that had, in fact, been on the edge of awareness for some time.
“I said, was he insane, Sarge?”
But when you’re falling off the cliff, it’s too late to wonder if there might have been a better way up the mountain…
“He asked you to shoot at people who weren’t shooting back,” growled Vimes, striding forward. “That makes him insane, wouldn’t you say?”
“They are throwing stones, Sarge,” said Colon.
“So? Stay out of range. They’ll get tired before we do.”
In fact, the barrage of missiles from the barricade had ceased; even in a time of crisis, the people of Ankh-Morpork would stop for a decent piece of street theater. Vimes walked back toward them, stopping on the way to retrieve Rust’s bent megaphone.
As he approached, he cast his eye over faces just visible through the chair legs and junk. There would be Unmentionables somewhere, he knew, helping matters along. With luck, they wouldn’t have bothered with Whalebone Lane.
There was muttering from the defenders. Most of them had a look Vimes recognized, because it was the one he was trying to keep off his own face. It was the look of people whose world had suddenly been swept from under them, and now they were trying to tap-dance on quicksand.
He tossed away the stupid pompous megaphone. He cupped his hands.
“Some of you know me!” he shouted. “I’m Sergeant Keel, currently in command of the Treacle Mine Road Watch House! And I order you to dismantle this barricade—”
There was a chorus of jeers and one or two badly thrown missiles. Vimes waited, stock-still, until they’d died away. Then he raised his hands again.
“I repeat, I order you to dismantle this barricade.” He took a breath, and went on: “And rebuild it on the other side, oh the corner with Cable Street! And put up another one at the top of Sheer Street! Properly built! Good grief, you don’t just pile stuff up, for gods’ sake! A barricade is something you construct! Who’s in charge here?”
There were sounds of consternation behind the overturned furniture, but a voice called out: “You?” There was nervous laughter.
“Very funny! Now laugh this one off! No one’s interested in us yet! This is a quiet part of town! But when things really go bad, you’re going to have cavalry on your backs! With sabers! How long would you last? If you shut off this end of Treacle Mine and the end of Sheer, then they’re left with alleyways, and they don’t like that! It’s up to you, of course! We’d like to protect you, but me and my men’ll be behind the barricades over here…”
He turned on his heel and marched back to the waiting watchmen.
“Right, lads,” he said. “You heard. Pounce and Gaskin, you take the hurry-up wagon up to the bridge and turn it over. Waddy and Nancyball and you, too, Fred…go and nick some carts. You grew up round here, so don’t tell me you’ve never done that before. I want a couple blocking the streets down here, and the rest, I want you to run them into the alleymouths until they wedge. You men know the area. Block up all little back ways.”
Colon rubbed his nose. “We could do that on the river side, Sarge, but it’s all alleys on The Shades’ side. Can’t block ’em all.”
“I wouldn’t worry about those,” said Vimes. “Cavalry can’t come through there. You know what they call a horse in The Shades?”
Colon grinned. “Yeah, Sarge. Lunch.”
“Right. The rest of you, get all the benches and tables out of the Watch House—”
It dawned on him that none of the men had moved. There was a certain…problem in the air.
“Well?”
Billy Wiglet removed his helmet and wiped his forehead.
“Er…how far is this going to go, Sarge?”
“All the way, Billy.”
“But we took the oath, Sarge, and now we’re disobeying orders and helping rebels.